


Slits in the Curtains

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unrequited lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slits in the Curtains

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Every inch of his body responded to the pull of a ravenously talented mouth. “Sooo good, baby. Oh, yeah, suck it. Harder!”

His leg muscles clenched tightly, on the verge of cramping, as his thrusts quickened, his cock pumping in and out of the wet, eager mouth of the boy kneeling before him. The slippery warmth, the fluttering tongue, the low moans humming around his flesh were indescribably pleasurable. But, he needed a dash extra to make everything complete. He wanted the added fillip of showing his sex toy who was boss. His hands carelessly seized fistfuls of black hair as he suddenly pulled out, forcing his willing slave to hold still. Dripping liquid skeins of saliva and pre-com, his cock poised inches away from the moist lips, swollen from his phallic assault. 

“You want more? Beg me, and I’ll give you more.”

“Please, oh, please,” whimpered the slave, straining against the iron grip, tongue out, desperately trying to lick the cock that hovered tantalizingly just out of his reach. 

“You’ll swallow every drop of come, won’t you?”

“Yesss…” Words disintegrated into gasping pants.

He leaned in just close enough for the frantic tongue to lap at the head of his cock, thrilled by the sound of wordless, guttural begging. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer. The wantonly anxious expression on the face below him, feverish eyes worshiping his cock, was almost enough to send him over the edge. Shuddering with effort, he slowly pushed himself deep into the open, willing throat, feeling the rhythmic, swallowing suction seizing him, working him, sucking him dry….

“Pete! Wake up! We’re late!”

With a guilty start, Peter Pettigrew shot upright in bed as his curtains were flung back by a bedraggled and half-dressed James Potter.

Remus Lupin peered around James’ shoulder. “Peter, are you alright? You were making some strange noises.”

“Umm, yeah, I’m fine. I must have been dreaming.”

“Well, hurry up and get dressed.” Sirius Black’s muffled voice chimed in, lost in the folds of the sweater he was hauling over his head. “We’ve all overslept and if we’re late for Transfiguration again, McGonagall will turn us into parsnips.”

“Right. Thanks.” Peter slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees as he silently damned his roommates for interrupting one of his favorite fantasies. He briefly debated whether to finish jerking himself off, but the sudden shock of James looming over him had quenched most of his urgency. He waited a few more moments, listening with half an ear to the general hubbub of his roommates starting their day. With a final sigh, he forced himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

Later that morning the 6th year Gryffindors joined with the Ravenclaws on their way to 

Herbology. James and Sirius walked a little ahead of their friends, deep in discussion about a secret plan for Lily’s upcoming birthday. Peter, Remus and a very curious Lily sauntered along behind them. This was fine with Peter, as it gave him a perfect opportunity to stare at the object of his obsession without being too obvious. Like mirror images, the dark heads of the boys in front turned to glance back at Lily. 

“You’re not planning to embarrass me in front of the whole school, are you?” Her voice held equal parts of warning, amusement, and wary mistrust.

James and Sirius made no reply except to snicker. Sirius flung his arm around James’ shoulders to pull him close enough to whisper in his ear. Peter felt a stab of jealousy. ‘He always touches James. Puts an arm around him or wrestles with him or messes up his hair, like it’s not a magpie’s nest all by itself. And Remus…’ Peter’s eyes narrowed threateningly as he glanced at the calm face of the boy next to him. ‘He curls up next to Remus in the Shack like they’re littermates. He helps Remus into bed and massages his muscles. He never touches me but he’ll put his hands all over that…that monster.’ Peter gave a surprised start at the nasty direction his thoughts had taken. His musings were suddenly interrupted.

“CROSS-BODY BLOCK!” screamed a human missile that struck without warning. Hugh Carney, the burly 7th year captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team barreled full-tilt into James and Sirius, and all three tumbled to the ground in a heap, book bags flying, robes flapping. The other students began gathering around, ready for some cheap entertainment.

“Alright, boys! Let me have your attention!” Hugh shouted, perched firmly atop the squirming bodies of James and Sirius. Their entwined appendages created the illusion of a mutant, black octopus, long limbs waving in all directions, as they tried to get themselves sorted enough to throw Hugh off. He was having none of it. By skillfully applying the leverage of his weight advantage to keep James still, he also managed to successfully pin Sirius to the ground.

“Hold still and listen to me, lads! I’ve come up with a plan to defeat Hufflepuff next week. And you, my beloved, black-haired beauties, are the keys to our success.”

This declaration was greeted with moans and pleas for release from the aforementioned beauties, and laughter from the other students watching Hugh’s antics. Happy to put on a show, Hugh’s grin became more maniacal. “Now, me darlin’ James,” he drawled, wriggling around for a better purchase on James’ flailing arms. The human pile lurched precariously, bringing forth strangled, retching noises from Sirius. “You’re crushing me, you clods!”

“Shut up, Star Boy, I’ll get to you in a minute.”

With a piteous cry, Sirius allowed his head to thump to the ground, surrendering to his fate with muted moans of self-pity. Hugh bounced happily and continued. “Jamsie, love, I’ve figured out a set play to draw their Beaters’ attention, giving you extra room to find that Snitch. Aren’t you pleased?”

“I’m thrilled. Get off!” 

“But, of course. You may go with my blessing.” Hugh abruptly shifted position, forcing another loud groan from Sirius, and leaning down, kissed James firmly on the mouth. 

“Aaargh!” James yelled, pulling his head away. “I hate when you do that.”

“Did he slip you the tongue, James?” a giggling Ravenclaw asked.

“Yes! And he doesn’t even ask first. Disgusting!” Released, James rolled off of Sirius and out of harm’s way, unsuccessfully suppressing a grin at his over-exuberant captain. Hugh, in the meantime, had pounced energetically on Sirius. “And, you, me star-bright Chaser, will be the decoy to draw the Beaters away. We’ll make them think they have a chance to rearrange the features on your pretty face.”

“Why do you always risk my face instead of your ugly mug?” Sirius asked sweetly.

“Because I’m the captain. And we know they won’t do anything truly nasty because they’re all in love with you. And your pretty face.” Hugh smiled a loony, love-sick smile. “Come to think of it, **I’m** in love with you.” His hands firmly grasped either side of Sirius’ head. 

“Oh, Hugh, I had no idea!” A simpering Sirius batted his eyes at Hugh.

“Sirius, sweet Sirius, be mine!” With that Hugh pressed forward and planted an opened-mouth, tongue-thrusting kiss on his Chaser. Sirius responded in kind, to the applause, wolf whistles and general hilarity of the crowd. 

Hugh finally rose to his knees, hand on heart, and declaimed dramatically, “Oh, Sirius, will you marry me?”

Dusty and disheveled, leaning back on his elbows, Sirius looked regretfully at Hugh. “Not if you were the last person on earth. You don’t kiss very well.” Hoots of derision rose from the crowd as Hugh mimed heartbreak at his rejection.

Peter felt himself flush at the display. Never in a million years could he kiss someone like that in front of all these people. Yet neither of the boys on the ground seemed the least bit embarrassed. Peter suspected that Sirius was teasing about Hugh’s kissing skills. After all, he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself when they were lip-locked together. 

Peter shrank back, as if he were afraid that either Hugh or Sirius would call him out to demonstrate his own kissing abilities. He was sure Sirius would be disappointed in him, and he’d be mortified to have his limited experience displayed in front of a crowd. Although, if he ever got the chance to kiss Sirius, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He loved to indulge in the fantasy where the two of them were alone in the dorm room and he kissed Sirius passionately, causing the taller boy to melt against him with a moan. They’d sink onto a bed, with Peter’s skillful hands magically brushing their clothing away until, finally, a naked, willing Sirius would lay back on the bed, gazing up at Peter, his eyes blue flames of desire and whispering, “Peter, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“Hello, there! Earth to Peter!” 

Startled, Peter’s glassy eyes finally focused on the hand Remus was waving in front of his face. He blinked rapidly, seeing curiosity in his friend’s hazel eyes. “Uh…right. Let’s get to class.”

~ **~** ~ **~** ~

In the dorm room late Saturday morning, Peter sat alone working on an assignment. To his surprise, he realized he was down to his last two Advanced Arithmancy questions. It hadn’t taken him all that long, and, best of all, he understood what he was doing. He seemed to have less trouble with this material if he studied it by himself. Arithmancy was so much easier to comprehend if he could concentrate fully on the problems at hand. If James and Sirius were around, they’d almost always go off on some tangent, applying their knowledge to far-fetched questions that ended up confusing him. He always felt stupid and slow around them. 

Sometimes he thought they did it on purpose. He wished he could master them at something, especially Sirius. Peter envied the way Sirius seized life like a lover, with a fierce, consuming joy. He was so fearless, even when he fell flat on his face. He’d just pick himself up and start over with energetic determination. Peter, on the other hand, always wanted to sink into the ground when he made mistakes. He dwelt on them, picked at them like scabs, leaving scars no one else seemed to notice.

As if summoned by Peter’s thoughts, Sirius chose that moment to burst through the door, accompanied by a strong, biting odor of rotting vegetation.

“Ugh! Phew! What have you been doing?” Peter choked, as his reeking, mud-covered roommate stopped near the door to pull off his sneakers, which were dripping with a thick, dark, odiferous sludge. Streaks of mud ran down his robes and threaded dull stripes through the usually shiny hair.

Sirius grinned apologetically, “Sorry, Peter. I volunteered to go with Professor Kettleburn on his kelpie round-up.” Leaving his shoes outside the door, Sirius paused, looking down at himself. “I am rather ripe, aren’t I? I’ll drop all this off with the Laundry elves once I’ve taken a shower.”

Peter readily agreed, although secretly he though Sirius looked rather attractively rakish, especially with the smudge of mud on his forehead and right temple, which he undoubtedly gave himself while pushing his hair out of his face. “So, did you find the kelpie Kettleburn thought was hanging around the lake?”

His smile now thoroughly triumphant, Sirius started across the room, shedding his robes and hopping out of his socks as he went. “Yes, we were. And guess who was instrumental in preventing the kelpie from doubling back out of our trap?”

“You?”

“Got it in one.. Kettleburn gave me twenty points for my efforts. Luckily he didn’t deduct for style since I managed to give myself a mud bath at the same time. Anyway, I’ve regained the ten house points I lost last week, plus an extra ten.”

“All in all, a good morning’s work.”

“Right. And now I better take a shower before I stink up the entire Tower.”

Armed with clean clothes that he held gingerly as far from himself as possible, Sirius made for the door, kicking the other dirty items into a heap next to his sneakers. As his footsteps faded towards the bathroom, Peter made a snap decision and jumped into action. Swiftly, he opened James’ trunk and swirled the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders. Then he made for the bathroom, planning to wait outside until he heard the shower running, to avoid the danger of Sirius noticing the door to the room opening and closing by itself.

However, luck smiled upon him. Fifth-year Brian West opened the door on his way out of the bathroom, a grimace on his face, and shouted back into the room as he left, “Jeez, Black, couldn’t you have taken a shower in the Slytherins’ bathroom rather than stinking up ours?”

Peter heard Sirius’ answering laughter as he slipped easily by Brian and into the room. He walked quietly passed the sinks and toilets until he rounded the corner to the shower stalls. Sirius had already stripped off his shirt and was shoving it into one of the school’s laundry bags. A frown crossed the handsome features as he looked at the thick streak of mud trailing in an uneven diagonal from his throat down across the right side of his chest. “Clumsy idiot! No wonder Kettleburn was laughing at me…”

Sirius’ words dropped into an unintelligible mutter as he continued removing his clothes. Peter tiptoed closer until less than ten feet separated them. Leaning against the wall, he settled back to watch, his eyes traveling along the exposed skin of his friend. Sirius’ sixteen-year-old body was well on its way to manhood. Peter’s eyes meandered appreciatively along the broad shoulders and then slid down a sleekly muscled back to the perfect ass emerging invitingly in front of him as Sirius shucked off his pants and underwear. Peter didn’t dare move for fear of making a noticeable noise. He held himself rigidly still, although he would have given anything to be able to reach out his hands to stroke the alluring flesh in front of him.

Sirius stood still, gloriously naked, as his nimble fingers quickly searched all the pockets of his jeans before stuffing them into the laundry bag. He then stepped into one of the shower stalls, shampoo and soap in hand, and carelessly flung the curtain closed behind him. As soon as he heard the water come on, Peter shot across the floor, knowing that Sirius would stand with his back to the curtain while he adjusted the water’s temperature. Carefully, Peter slid the curtain open just enough to give himself a clear view.

And what a perfect picture greeted his eyes. Sirius’ hands were against the wall as he leaned into the hard, hot spray. He slowly tipped back his head, luxuriating in the water’s tingling massage. The thick, shaggy hair flattened under the torrent, the wavy ends slinking down to his shoulder blades with the weight of the water. Rivulets ran along the tawny contours of his skin, a healthy color that lingered from the summer’s sun. The fading suntan contrasted beautifully with the paler skin of the tight buttocks. Peter’s fingers clutched convulsively, wanting to grab and knead each firm cheek.

His breath quickened at the thought, hands now busy under the cloak, unzipping his fly and seizing his burgeoning erection. His thoughts were filled with the imagined tastes and scents and sensations that could be his if he was only bold enough to act on his desires. His tongue slipped past his open lips as it would if he were in that shower. He longed to drop to his knees in the warm water, while his hands grasped and separated the twin mounds to open a pathway for his tongue. He’d lave long swipes along that seam. He’d press against the tight circle, licking and caressing, the tip of his tongue gradually pushing inside, wriggling and teasing and tasting, until he felt Sirius’s muscles ripple, and heard pleading moans in response to his masterful manipulation.

A rich cedar and citrus aroma filled the air as Sirius began energetically washing his hair. His long fingers danced quickly through ribbons of black, banishing all traces of mud. Turning slowly to face forward, he tilted his head back slightly to let the water sweep the shampoo out of his hair. Streams of suds sluiced down his body to pool briefly at his feet before vanishing down the drain. 

Another clean scent wafted out on the warm air as Sirius lathered himself with soap. Peter hungrily watched the adept hands smooth over every inch of skin, erasing the stains of mud and dirt. But, Sirius was moving much too quickly. How Peter wished the soap was in his own hands. He would lovingly bathe Sirius from head to toe, lingering on every sensitive spot, testing the cleanliness of each patch of skin with his lips. Once more the water swirled frothy bubbles down shoulders and chest and stomach, some lingering briefly in the dark delta at Sirius’ groin. 

Peter smothered a moan as his hands squeezed and pumped more vigorously. His eyes followed Sirius’ soapy hands as they neared his crotch. Maybe Sirius was thinking about someone he’d slept with. Maybe he’d use the slick coating on his hands and arouse his own cock. They could pleasure themselves at the same time. Peter would love to watch that quiescent shaft rise up strong and hard into those hands, hot and quivering until, with muffled grunts, they’d come at the same time. Peter’s eyes would dart upward to see Sirius’ face. He was sure that Sirius looked beautiful when he came. He wanted to sear that expression of ecstasy into his memory forever.

But the hands did not linger. Instead they continued cleansing thighs and calves. Peter backed away, trying not to stumble. He crept into one of the toilet stalls. Working his hand rapidly up and down his erection, a black-haired vision glistening with water filled his mind’s eye. With a barely audible cry that contained more longing than release, he shot into a wad of toilet paper.

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~

As the days went by, Peter sensed something different about his friends. Another full moon passed and Sirius had been more attentive than usual to Remus. Then Peter observed that they often seemed to exchange glances, communicating silently back and forth in a language that was foreign to Peter. With growing dread, he suspected they were interested in each other. Trying to appear casual, he floated the idea by James to get his reaction.

James was thoughtfully surprised. “Sirius and Remus? Gee, I don’t know. Neither of them has said anything to me.” He smiled. “But, it would be great, wouldn’t it? I think they’d be good together.”

One thing Peter had become adept at over the years was to keep a straight face. He didn’t let James see his disappointment. But, of course, how typical of Peter’s life this would be. James had Lily, and now he’d probably scheme to ensure Sirius and Remus got together. ‘Where does that leave me? **I’m** good for Sirius. At least I’m completely human.’ 

And then, to make life perfect, Peter came down with the flu right before a Hogsmeade weekend. He missed several days of classes, not being able to do much more than occasionally sit up in bed in the Hospital. He knew he would not be permitted to leave the school on Saturday. However, once that fact became known, a lot of his housemates visited him to try to cheer him up. Madame Pomfrey got downright shirty at one point, saying that none of her flu patients would ever recover if they weren’t allowed to rest. She accused Remus, James and Sirius of trying to set up camp in the Hospital, and actually banished them for an entire day.

Late Saturday afternoon Peter finally convinced Pomfrey to let him return to his dorm room. His mates would return soon and Peter knew they’d bring him plenty of presents and sweets.

The trip back to the dorm tired him more than he expected. He slowly turned the doorknob and walked into his room, which held the last rays of the late afternoon sun. Shutting the door quietly, he thought about crawling into his bed until the others returned.

His eyes were caught by a beam of sunlight reflecting off of pile of packages on his bed, including several Honeydukes bags. Who had already returned from Hogsmeade? 

That’s when he heard it. A low, throaty moan came from behind the closed curtains around Remus’ bed. Maybe Remus was ill? Peter was about to call out when he heard another moan in a different voice. Sirius’voice. Some sort of writhing creature twisted around deep in his stomach as he noticed other sounds coming from the bed. Rustling cloth, huffing breath, and moist, wet noises that sounded like kisses. And the constant undertone of soft moans, and drawn-out sighs of pleasure.

He had to see. Silently Peter stepped to James’ trunk to once more borrow the Cloak. As he checked to make sure he was completely covered, he felt his heart constrict as he heard Sirius, yes, clearly it was Sirius’ voice, growl huskily, “Ohhh, Remus, yes…”

He had to see. Moving more quietly and cautiously than he ever had in his life, Peter came up to the far side of Remus’ bed and furtively opened a slit in the curtains. 

He wanted to scream. They were naked in Remus’ bed, the sheets twisted and crumpled around them. Sirius was on his back, long legs wrapped tightly around Remus’ waist, one hand between their bodies, the other entangled in the dark honey hair. Remus was propped up, his arms on either side of the boy below him. His hands explored whatever flesh they could reach, sweeping down from cheek to neck, kneading along a shoulder or playfully tweaking a hardened nipple. His hips moved in a steady, rocking rhythm. And Peter saw they were joined. Locked together with arms and legs and Remus’ rigid cock, pumping relentlessly in and out of Sirius.

The hand at the back of Remus’ head firmly pulled him down until their gasping mouths sealed together in deep, biting kisses. Peter had thought the kiss he witnessed between Hugh and Sirius was a real kiss. It was nothing like this. They devoured each other, as if the nectar of paradise could be found in each other’s mouths, on each other’s tongues. Remus’ mouth trailed down Sirius’ throat, leaving behind bruises like reddened rosebuds, marking the skin, incited to nip and bite by the gravelly purring sound pouring from Sirius’ lips. 

Remus took that mouth again, kissing hard, sucking on the proffered tongue, unable to stifle his own moans. He drove harder and faster into Sirius’ body, and the sable-haired body responded with an answering rhythm, arching up to meet him until they came together with breathless cries. 

And in that moment, Peter realized that he had been right. Sirius was truly beautiful when he came. Peter got his wish. He had wanted to sear that expression of ecstasy into his memory forever. And he knew he’d carry it to his grave.

The lovers shifted on the bed until they lay curled together face-to-face. Peter again witnessed the wordless communication that connected their eyes. He turned away, thinking he’d replace the Cloak and silently go collapse in the common room, when he heard, “I meant every word, Remus. I love you.” And, then the sound of more kisses. 

That night he had trouble sleeping. He had tried to act pleased at the attention and gifts his roommates showered on him before dinner. But, all he wanted was to shut himself away behind his curtains. He skipped dinner, having no appetite after what he had witnessed. He lay in bed thinking.

It made no sense to him. Why would Sirius want to have sex with a vile, dark creature? An uncontrollable beast? How could he let that filthy monster paw at him and drool over him and bite him? A werewolf, for God’s sake! And Sirius gave himself willingly, wanted to be kissed and touched and fucked by that evil thing. Peter would offer his life, his heart, his soul to the black-haired wizard that haunted his dreams. But he knew he faced total rejection because Sirius wanted to mate with an animal. This shouldn’t be allowed. They should be stopped.

A small seed sprouted deep within Peter, a tiny flame lit the corners of the emptiness inside. It might take some time, but he’d find a way to separate them. Forever. Sirius should be free of the monster and not let it drag him down into its dark, soulless depths. Peter would work and scheme and plot until he broke them apart, no matter how long it took.

He fell asleep comforted by his thoughts. And dreamt of the wizard he’d never have, whose beautiful face was seared into his memory. 

END


End file.
